Dragonback 01 Dragon and Thief (23 page)

He stepped behind Braxton and stuck his gun into the older man's
back. With his free hand he patted Braxton's clothes, searching for
weapons. Jack watched him, feeling like he was going to be sick. He'd
tried to do what was right; and instead he'd landed smack in the middle
of an even bigger pit than he'd been in before.

Because there was no doubt that he, Jack Morgan, was the mess
Raven was talking about cleaning up. Him, and maybe Braxton. Two of
them, by themselves, against Raven and his men. It was just like the
old days, with him and Uncle Virgil going up against the cops or the
system or even other criminals.

Only this time it was him and Cornelius Braxton. At least Uncle
Virgil had known what he was doing in a con or a fight or a slink. You
could count on him to have a trick or two up his sleeve.

But Braxton wasn't Uncle Virgil. He was old, and he was way out of
his element here. He probably hadn't had a fight outside a corporate
boardroom in thirty years. Jack's skin began to crawl with the thought.

He frowned in sudden realization. No; that wasn't
his
skin
crawling.

It was Draycos.

In the flick of an eye his mood and his fear and all the old
memories vanished away. Yes, it was like the old days, all right. Only
this time it was
Jack
who had the trick up his sleeve.

Whatever Raven had in mind, Jack would bet heavy odds that it
didn't include the possibility of a K'da poet-warrior joining the game.

He reached up and squeezed his shoulder, hoping Draycos would take
the hint and stay put for now. Part of the reason Uncle Virgil had
never been thrown in prison, he knew, was that the cops had never been
able to gather enough evidence against him.

Before he turned his pet K'da loose on this gang, maybe he could
get Raven to brag a little.

He looked back at Braxton. "So who's Mr. Neverlin?" he asked
casually.

Raven threw a frown at Jack over Braxton's shoulder. "You're
pretty calm," he said suspiciously. "You counting on your uncle to pull
you out of this?"

"One of the benefits of a clear conscience," Jack assured him.
"And, of course, the fact that I still have the cylinder."

Raven snorted. "Dream on, kid. Now that the plan has gone down in
flames, I don't need it anymore."

"Oh," Jack said. "Well . . . in that case, would you mind telling
me what the plan
was?
"

"Watch them," Raven ordered Boyle and Vance, stepping away from
Braxton and heading back to the archway. "I'll be back in a minute."

"I think I can fill in the blanks, Mr. Morgan," Braxton said
calmly. He might be old, Jack realized, but he was a long way from
being out of his element. His face was clear and thoughtful, his eyes
taking everything in. "The
Advocatus Diaboli
is assigned to the
chairman of my board, Arthur Neverlin. I would say that he's decided he
wants to run the whole company by himself."

"He already seems to be running some of your people," Jack said,
inclining his head toward Boyle. "Where does the cylinder fit in?"

"It contains DNA samples taken from my wife and me when we were
twenty," Braxton explained. "Every few years we take a month-long
cruise like this, go to a clinic on Parsonia, and take rejuvenation
treatments. The DNA is part of it."

He smiled. "I'm actually considerably older than I look."

"Ah," Jack said, nodding. The man must be ancient, then. "Must be
something in the duplicate that'll kill you."

"No doubt," Braxton agreed. "But subtly, of course. Always very
subtle, our Mr. Neverlin."

Jack looked around. "So where
is
your wife?"

"She's out walking on the promenade level." Braxton looked
thoughtfully at Boyle. "I wonder if her guards are in on this, too."

Jack looked at Boyle, too. The man was standing silently, but his
throat was working up and down. "Offhand, I'd say they aren't," he told
Braxton.

"You shut up," Boyle snapped, clenching his teeth in Jack's
direction. "
You
we don't have to find a clever way of getting
rid of."

"Cork it, Boyle," Raven growled from across the room as he strode
back in under the archway. With him was another guard. "Okay, Myers and
I have a plan."

"Hope this one works better than the last one did," Jack murmured.

"I
could
just let Boyle take you off somewhere, you know,"
Raven said pointedly. "It wouldn't be nearly as painless a way to go."

"Never mind him," Boyle said. "What are we going to do about Mrs.
Braxton? She could be back any minute."

"Forget her," Raven said. "She'll keep. What we have to do now is
make Braxton disappear."

"What, here on the ship?" Boyle demanded. "Are you nuts?"

"Relax," Raven told him. "We're docking with Shotti Station in
five hours for cargo pickup. If we can keep up the pretense that he's
aboard until then, we can make it look like he got off there."

"And what exactly would I be doing at Shotti Station?" Braxton
asked mildly.

Raven smiled tightly. "Meeting a special courier from Mr.
Neverlin, of course."

"Ah," Braxton said. "And you already have this set up with him?"

"No," Raven said. "But we'll have plenty of time afterward to work
out those details."

"After what?" Jack asked.

"After you two take a swim out the airlock," Raven said bluntly.

"An airlock?" Braxton said, lifting his eyebrows politely.
"Really. That should be interesting."

"Don't get your hopes up," Raven warned, jerking his head toward
the new guard. "Myers found a cargo lock that isn't guarded or watched.
Bay AA-3. Should be nice and quiet."

"And you expect us to meekly walk in there?" Braxton asked. "Just
like that?"

"Just like that," Raven nodded. "Because if you try to warn or
alert anyone along the way, we'll kill them too. You don't want to go
to your death with someone else's life on your conscience, do you?"

Braxton didn't answer. But his face seemed to sag, just a little.
"I didn't think so," Raven said, shifting his gaze to Jack. "How about
you?"

"Oh, I'll cooperate," Jack said. "But I think there's something
else you've forgotten."

"Who, your uncle?" Raven said with a sniff. "Don't flatter
yourself. I met Virgil Morgan once. He's not going to stick his neck
into trouble for you. Either of you."

He pointed a finger at Jack. "But don't take it personally. After
we're finished with you, we'll track him down."

Jack pursed his lips. "I wish you luck," he said. "He won't be
easy to find."

"We'll find him," Raven promised. "Trust me."

He drew his gun from its holster and slipped it and his hand into
the side pocket of his coat. "Boyle, you stay here and deal with the
wife when she comes back. Nothing fancy—tell her he's gone for a
stroll. Vance, Myers, you're coming with us."

He gestured toward the door. "Mr. Braxton? After you."

With Vance in the lead, Braxton, Jack, and Raven behind him, and
Myers bringing up the rear, they headed out.

The two guards Jack had run into earlier were still on the job,
and they stepped out of their rooms as the parade came by. Jack held
his breath; but Braxton merely waved them back to their posts. Jack
looked at their faces as he passed, but there was no suspicion there
that he could see.

They might be suspicious later, of course. But by then it would be
too late. Or so Raven probably hoped, anyway.

He might be right, too. True, Jack still had Draycos hidden away.
But even under ideal conditions it would still be three armed men
against a single unarmed K'da.

And the conditions here were anything but ideal. Raven walked
close behind Braxton and Jack as they made their way along, his gun
pressing through his coat into Braxton's back whenever someone came
close. Draycos could easily take him out, probably before the man even
knew what had hit him.

But Vance and Myers were keeping their distance. No matter how
fast he was, the dragon could never get to both of them before the
shooting started.

The group was soon out of the high-class living section and into
the
Star of Wonders
main eating and entertainment area. More
and more people were milling around here, and Jack waited expectantly
for Vance and Myers to close the gap between them. Surely they would
want to prevent any chance of Braxton or Jack darting off and losing
themselves in the crowds.

But they still kept their distance. It was almost as if they were
expecting an attack . . . and it wasn't until the group had passed the
central elevator bank that Jack suddenly realized that that was exactly
what they
were
expecting. Not from a hidden K'da warrior, of
course, but from Uncle Virgil.

Back in Braxton's suite, dropping all those vague hints and
threats had seemed like a clever thing to do. Now, Jack wasn't so sure
about that.

"We'll be passing the casino soon," Braxton murmured from beside
him. "That may be your best hope."

For a couple of steps Jack was strongly tempted. Raven's gun was
stuck in Braxton's back, after all, not his. If he could make it into
the casino, there were all those game tables and chance machines for
him to duck and dodge among. There were bound to be security people on
duty there, too.

But there were still Vance and Myers to think about. Braxton
didn't seem the type to hire bodyguards who couldn't shoot straight.
"Thanks for the offer," he murmured back. "But I think I'll stick it
out."

"They're going to kill me, Jack," Braxton reminded him. "As Raven
said, I really don't want to die with other lives on my conscience."

Jack frowned sideways at him. Braxton's face was set in hard
lines; but at the same time Jack could tell that the man meant it.

It seemed a far cry from the hard, cold, merciless industrial
giant that everyone thought of when Cornelius Braxton's name was
mentioned. Maybe Braxton was rearranging his way of thinking now that
he could see his own death approaching.

Or maybe the public image wasn't what the man was really like at
all.

"It's okay," he told Braxton. "And don't give up hope. Not yet."

Braxton glanced around. "All right," he said. "If you say so."

"Over here," Raven said, taking Braxton's shoulder and guiding him
into a right-hand turn. They went through a door with the now
familiar—at least to Jack—
Authorized Personnel Only
sign on it.
A short corridor away, they reached a large elevator door.

"Say good-bye to civilization," Raven advised as the elevator
doors slid open. "Next stop'll be the cargo section."

Jack had held out some hope that in the confined space of an
elevator car Draycos would finally have a chance to act. But
accidentally or otherwise, Raven had neatly squashed that one. The car
he ushered them into wasn't one of the regular passenger elevators, but
instead a cargo lift. It was nearly the size of Jack's stateroom, and
Vance and Myers went immediately to opposite corners.

Raven stepped well back, too. Now that secrecy wasn't important
anymore, all three men drew their guns out of hiding. Myers touched the
button, and the car started down.

"Jack?" a voice murmured in Jack's right ear.

Jack measured the distances with his eyes. Too far. Besides, there
was no cover anywhere for him and Braxton to duck behind when the
shooting started. "Not here," he murmured back, keeping his lips
motionless.

"We are running out of time," Draycos pointed out.

"Don't you think I know that?" Jack retorted quietly. "It just
won't work in here."

"Hey," Myers said, jabbing his gun toward Jack. "Did anyone think
to check this clown for a comm clip?"

"Harper ran him," Raven told him. "He was clean."

"Then who's he talking to?" Myers demanded. "Maybe I ought to do a
little more
thorough
search, if you know what I mean."

"He was talking to me," Braxton spoke up. "Is that a problem?"

"What about?" Myers asked.

"None of your business," Braxton said calmly. "Most condemned men
are allowed a last meal. You should at least be gracious enough to
allow us a last conversation."

"Yeah?" Myers growled, starting forward. "Maybe we're not feeling
gracious today, huh?"

"It's all right, Myers," Raven said, waving the other back. "Let
them talk."

Myers glared some more, but he returned to his corner without
argument. "Thanks," Jack murmured to Braxton.

Braxton nodded, his eyes on Raven. "You know, Mr. Raven, there's
no reason you have to kill our young friend here," he commented. "There
are several techniques that can be used to block his memories of this
entire trip."

"Sorry," Raven said, shaking his head. "I know all about those
techniques. I don't trust any of them."

"I could make it worth your while," Braxton offered.

Raven grinned evilly. "Thanks, but I think Mr. Neverlin already
has enough of the pie to outbid you. He sure will after today."

"This is an account Neverlin doesn't know about," Braxton
persisted. "One he'll never find on his own. A little extra money never
hurt anyone."

"A little extra loose end can hurt plenty," Raven retorted. "Now
shut up."

Braxton looked at the other two. "Myers? Vance? Either of you
interested?"

"I said
shut up
!" Raven snarled, gesturing with his gun.
"Or I'll drop you right here."

Braxton gave up. The rest of the elevator ride was made in silence.

The doors opened onto a corridor that was clearly one of the
ship's working areas. No fancy carvings or carpeting or even textured
wall coverings here. Everything was plain synth-wall and scuffless
flooring, with wires and conduits running in plain sight along the
ceilings.

It was better than a lot of places Jack had been in. Still, coming
from the fancier parts of the liner, it seemed shockingly bleak and
shabby. A very depressing place to have to die in.